Through the Test of Time
by omenaoranssi
Summary: A historically-based look into Finland through the eyes of Tino Väinämöinen and the others he meets along the way. [Possible future SuFin.]


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. All characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. I do not profit from the use of these characters.

**Note**: I used to RP as Finland, and I miss my Tino quite terribly! So, in a particular moment of longing, I decided to start writing a kind of historical-ish story about my darling boy. I'm definitely using elements of history, but please do not take this story to be completely historically accurate. Please ignore my most likely inaccurate use of Finnish. I'm attempting to learn the language, but - yeah. Also, updates will most likely be infrequent - my job keeps me ridiculously busy all the time!

Plus - SuFin makes my insides melt. I haven't decided if that will appear yet, but if it does - don't be surprised.

Now, onward!

Tino. That was his name… or at least that was the people called him, the small blonde child with eyes that reflected the _Revontuli_. The kind old woman who let him stay with her told him that his name meant "strength." Tino wasn't quite sure what that meant, but she always smiled and patted his head when he asked. "You'll learn in time," she would say, and Tino would frown in frustration, but never pushed the issue. He would simply grab his tiny bow and arrow, strap his puukko to his belt, and go find rabbits to hunt.

At least, he never knew until _they_ came.

They were taller than him, though not by much, and powerful. But they… they felt _different_ than the other people. They felt like _him_. He didn't understand, and wasn't sure that he wanted to. Not when they were taking his people and forcing them into trade work.

Tino frowned. He grabbed his puukko and held it tight in his tiny fist. He felt reassured by its weight in his hand and the gentle tap of his bow and quiver of arrows on his back as he walked. Hiding behind a bush, he crept closer to the strange camp where the foreigners sat by a campfire.

"…primitive, but makes a good trade route to Russland," the shortest one with blank, dark eyes said. Tino couldn't understand a word, but he didn't like the tone of voice.

"I just don't understand why we can't take this land like we took Daneslaw. Did you see Eyebrows? He was fucking terrified!" the tallest one said with a laugh that ended in a snort. His blue eyes were bright and full of life, but the gigantic axe leaning against his thigh made Tino wary. He wasn't sure about him.

He took a moment to study the third teenager who had yet to say anything. He was tall, though not quite as tall as the other one, and had a fierce expression. His eyes were like chips of ice as he studied his companions and the landscape around him.

" – such a fucking idiot, you know that," the one with flat eyes began to argue at the spiky haired one, before he was suddenly interrupted.

"Being watched," the third mumbled, and it was the first time he had spoken. "Bushes. Right."

The three teenagers turned toward him simultaneously. Tino 'eeped' when he saw them looking, and ducked down. He was quick, but not quick enough, because he was suddenly ripped from his hiding place by the collar of his tunic. He squirmed, trying to get free, though it was futile, and swung his prized puukko haphazardly at his captors.

"Look at this dagger! Vicious little guy, isn't he?" the tall one with spiky hair said with a derisive laugh. Tino growled and shot his hand out, trying to catch him in the gut with the puukko. He didn't like that he couldn't understand what these invaders were saying, and that he couldn't take them down. Jerks.

"I'll kill you for being on my land!" he screeched, his childish but strong voice making the Finnish come out a bit garbled. "You are unwanted here!"

"The fuck's he saying?" the tall one muttered, turning to the one with flat eyes. He still held Tino by the collar of his tunic, ignoring the smaller boy who was squirming to get free.

"Must be their language. Savage sounding thing, isn't it." The shortest one said. Now that he was closer, Tino could see a piece of hair that was literally _floating_ on the side of his head. Odd. But that didn't stop him from trying to get away.

"Let 'im down, Mathias," the stern looking one said. His facial expression was a bit frightening, but his eyes were kind.

"Whatever," the one named 'Mathias' said and dropped Tino rather unceremoniously. He fell to his knees and quickly righted himself, holding his puukko in front of him threateningly.

"He's one of us. Can't you tell?"

That made Tino freeze, though he didn't quite understand what they were saying. He understood the implication, though. _These_ people were like him? He shook his head and steadied the hand on his puukko. There was no way.

"Well, he sure is, ain't he? No wonder he's such a vicious little fucker, Berwald," Mathias said to the stern looking one. His name must be Berwald, then. What funny-sounding names they had.

Tino adjusted his grip on his puukko to hold it with both hands. This was his chance. He could escape while they were arguing amongst themselves. He could –

"Hej! Where do you think you're going?" He froze, mid-step as he was backing away. His light purple eyes widened in fear and he bolted, ignoring the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves behind him as the others rushed after him. He had the advantage, though; this was his land. Holding the dagger in his teeth, Tino jumped as high as possible, and scrambled up a tree. He sat there, breathing heavily but as quietly as possible, watching as the three invaders huddled at the base of the tree. The one named Mathias and the one with the floating hair split up, but the one named Berwald paused and looked thoughtfully at the tree.

"They're gone, you can come down," he said in a mumble. "It's safe."

Tino couldn't understand what he had said, but the tall, scary stranger had put his sword away and was holding a hand up pleadingly toward the limb Tino was perched on. He didn't seem threatening, but Tino knew that you could never be too sure. He kept his dagger clenched in his teeth, but slowly made his way down the craggy tree. He jumped the last four feet, landing nimbly on his hands and feet, and stood, puukko in hand.

"Safe," Berwald said again in his strange language, looking down at the shorter boy, and held out a hand. "Safe," he repeated, slowly, pleadingly.

He wasn't sure why, but Tino found himself feeling… secure. He hesitantly placed his hand into Berwald's rough, calloused one. Was this what he was trying to say? His free hand was still holding the dagger, so slowly, carefully, he placed it back into the holster. He gestured between the two of them. "Safe," he said quietly, in Finnish.

Even though they couldn't understand each other, they smiled.


End file.
